Scottish Train
by heigei
Summary: Voldemorts claims the souls on the Hogwarts Express, and suggests poker instead of fighting as a way of deciding who will get them. So they play. But who will win? Based on the song 'Spanish train' by Chris de Burgh. NO SLASH. One-shot.


_**A/N:** This oh so very short text is based on the song 'Spanish train' by Chris de Burgh. If you know the song you will find very much of the original inside this text. Since, well, I thought it fit perfectly. Plus I wanted it that way._

_Harry Potter is something that do not belong to be. And I believe that it is the same with the Hogwarts express, Hogsmead, and the characters within this text._

_Also, 'Spanish train' isn't mine, and alot of the text I've written isn't. Not much is mine. Except the idea of bringing these two elements together in perfect harmony (cough)._

_yes._

* * *

There was a ghost train that ran between London and a small village in the depths of Scotland, called Hogsmead, every year on the first of September. In the middle of the day and the dead of night the whistle would blow. And people could hear that she was running still though they did not see a thing, and they would hush their children back to sleep. They locked the doors, upstairs they crept, for it was said that the souls of the dead filled that train ten thousand deep. There were of course those who knew better, but who would explain to a muggle that the train was in fact real, and what souls were kept inside it?

And one of those rare days when the train should be in motion, the train would actually be late. Since the railway man lay dying, with his people by his side, on the station floor. His family were crying, because no spell would heal him. They were all knelt in prayer before he died.

Above his head just waiting for the dead was Lord Voldemort with a twinkle in his eye.

"Well, your Dumbledore's not around, and look what I've found. This one is mine!"

Just then Dumbledore appeared in a blinding flash of light, and shouted at the dark Lord:

"Get thee hence to endless night!"

But Voldemort just grinned, and said:

"I may have sinned, but there's no need to push me around. I got him first so you can do your worst. He is going underground."

"But I think I'll give you one more chance", said Voldemort with a smile. "So throw away that stupid wand, it is really not your style. Joker is the name, poker is the game. We'll play right here on the station floor. And then we'll bet for the biggest stakes yet: The souls of this train."

The students were awed. They all wanted to scream, but instead they whispered, since the presence of the dark Lord scared them:

"Oh, look out, Dumbledore, he's going to win. The sun is down, the train is late, the night is riding in. That train should be dead on time, and many souls are on the line. Oh, Professor, he's going to win."

The railway man he dealt the cards, and he dealt them each a hand of five. And for Dumbledore he was praying hard, or that train he'd have to drive.

Well, Voldemort had three aces and a king, and Dumbledore, he was running for a straight. He had the queen and the knave and nine and ten of spades, all he needed was the eight.

And then he called for one more card, but he drew the diamond eight. And Voldemort said to Dumbledore:

"I believe you got it straight. So deal me one, for the time has come to see who'll be the king of this place."

But as he spoke, from beneath his cloak, he slipped another ace.

Thousands of souls was the opening bid, and it soon went up to fifty-nine. But the principal didn't see what the dark Lord did and he said:

"That suits me fine. I'll raise you high to a hundred and five, and forever put an end to your sins."

But Voldemort let out a mighty shout:

_"My hand wins!"_

The students gasped, and if they only had the strength they all would scream:

"Oh Dumbledore, you let him win! Even though the sun was down and the night was riding in. This train should've been dead on time, and so many souls were on the line. Dumbledore, please, don't let him win."

Well that ghost train still runs between London and Hogsmead. And in the middle of the day, and the dead of night the whistle blows. And people fear she's running still, and far away in some recess Dumbledore and Voldemort are now playing chess.

The dark Lord still cheats and wins more souls, and as for Dumbledore, well, he's just doing his best.

Knowing what is on the line.


End file.
